


So's the Bronx

by sydneychase



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Newsies - Freeform, Romance, how do I even tag this, janie (slick) richardson, spot conlon - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-15 11:56:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3446285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sydneychase/pseuds/sydneychase
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Slick Richardson was the toughest kid out on the street, and the leader of the Bronx newsies, but no one could know she was a girl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Carrying the Banner

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first newsies fan fiction, and I wanted to write using the actors and characters from the musical except I wanted to keep Gabriel Damon's version of Spot from the movie because I liked him a little bit more. That's about it, let me know what you think and don't forget to leave kudos!

    The sun was starting to go down, the streets had started to quiet as the yelling of the newsies stopped as they all started to head inside. The sounds on the streets soon transferred indoors as the newsies lodging houses became filled with the sounds of dice hitting the tables, glasses clinking together, filled with cheap liquor, and the noises of raucous boys yelling and whooping over their dice and poker games. The boys gambled away their meager earnings, and laughed as they did so. They knew they'd never have enough money to buy their way out of the lodging house and out of the life of being a newsie all together, and a few of them didn't want to. For a few of them, becoming a newsie was one of the best things that had ever happened to them. Slick Richardson was one of those few. Ever since Jack Kelly had pulled her out of the refuge when she was twelve, she'd had a whole new life ahead of her. Sure, that new life still kind of sucked, but it was better than where she was headed. If she'd kept up with her old ways after Jack broke her out, she'd already be dead. But after her feet hit the ground as Jack lifted her out of that window, she knew that she was going to change. She knew that she couldn't keep living the way that she'd been living, but she also knew that she couldn't start over if she was still a girl. There were no options to for girls except to be a whore on the corner, or stuck in some dangerous factory job where she could risk getting her head chopped off in some machine. So she did what she could. She'd bound her chest, padded her clothes, and shoved her hair up into a hat and called herself Johnny. Becoming a boy saved her life, and helped her up the ranks of the Bronx newsies, and it kept her alive.  
    "Slick, ain't ya gonna place bets tonight?" she heard a voice say. She turned.  
    "Nah. Tonight ain't a good night."  
The boy laughed.  
    "Ain't a good night? Since when is Slick Richardson not down for good game of dice?"  
She gave the boy a light shove.  
    "Tonight, and you shouldn't have an issue with it." she said, her tone becoming more serious; biting even. The boy was silenced as he flicked a few pennies onto the table in front of him. She pushed herself up and headed off to the only private room in the whole lodging house. It'd been reserved for whichever boy took power in the Bronx, and Slick had had it for the longest time: three years. She unbuttoned her shirt and tugged off the fabric that bound her chest, wincing as she felt the newest round of dark bruises.  
    "Shit" she muttered under her breath as she tugged the fabric the rest of the way off. A loud knock at the door yanked he out of her thoughts. She quickly bound her chest again, ignore the sharp twinges of pain shooting through her ribs.  
    "What?" she asked, after her shirt was buttoned again. The door creaked open and she was met with the face of Toad, one of her second in commands.  
    "There's someone here to see you."  
She raised an eyebrow.  
    "Who the hell sends a kid over here at this time of night?" she asked, annoyed that someone would have the nerve to do so.  
    "There ain't a kid here ta see ya."  
She raised an eyebrow.  
    "It's...Jack Kelly."  
She felt her heart just about leap into her throat. Jack never came face to face with her unless there was something terribly wrong. He usually sent Race over, and Jane would follow if it was a big deal, but Jack was never here himself.  
    "He say why?"  
Toad shook his head.  
    "Bring him in."  
She heard the stairs creak and Jack took Toad's place in the doorway.  
    "Hey Janie." he said. She smiled.  
    "Hey Jack." she replied before he pulled her into a hug. He pulled away, holding her at arm's length to get a better look at her.  
    "When was the last time yous ate?" he asked, looking at her hollow cheek bones and boney fingers. She shrugged, catching his worried glance.  
    "You can't remember, can you?" he asked. She huffed out an angry breath.  
    "I can remember, it was just longer than you'd be OK with is all."  
Jack ran his hands through his hair.  
    "What was it this time? Liquor? Dice? Poker?" he asked. She felt her heart drop all the way to her toes. She could hear the disappointment in Jack's voice and she hated hearing it. Jack had pulled her out of a pretty bad spot, and she knew that he risked a lot by doing so. So whenever she did something stupid like drink too much or gamble her wages away, she knew that Jack would be upset, and that's when she felt guilty; like she was wasting the second chance that Jack had given her by pulling her out of the refuge.  
    "It was nothin'. I was tryna help out some kid, in the honest way."  
She saw Jack's expression soften.  
    "You gave him your dinner didn't you?" he asked. She nodded.  
    "The past two nights he's gotten it, and I don't regret it so don't ask me if I do." she said, folding her arms across her chest. He tugged her hat off her head and brushed the stray hairs out of her face.  
    "I wasn't gonna ask." he said with a small smile. She laughed.  
    "Good."  
A few moments of silence passed between them before he spoke up again.  
    "How're the bruises?" he asked. She shrugged her shoulders.  
    "They ain't that bad."  
Jack rolled his eyes.  
    "You know I can always tell when ya lie." he said. Jane raked her hands through her hair.  
    "Theys is getting worse"  
He pursed his lips.  
    "I keep tellin ya to take off the bindings. Give yourself a break. You don't deserve this." he said. For the first time in a long time, Jane saw him look sad. She saw his face fall and his eyes look sad. His whole posture deflated.  
    "And what? Not eat? Ya know that if I don't work, I don't get food."  
    "And if you're givin away your meals to the little ones, how're you gonna eat anyway?"  
    "Well forgive me for tryna do a good thing for the first time in my life." she mumbled, her gaze falling to her shoes. Jack sighed an took her hands in his.  
    "Look at me."  
She dragged her gaze up.  
    "You're not a bad person. Maybe a little bit damaged, but you're not bad. Yous are neva gonna be a bad person." he said. She sniffled, and gave a small nod. Jack gave her a soft smile before kissing her forehead.  
    "I should probably get goin'. Yous should come up to 'Hattan sometime. Crutchie and the boys miss ya." he said before leaving. She tucked her hair up in her hat before heading back out to the main bunks.  
    "Alright ya idiots, get to bed. We's got another early day tomorrow and I don't want no complainin'." she said before heading back into her room and getting to bed.


	2. Chapter 2

    "What the hell is this?!"  
    "They can't do this, can they?!"  
    "Pulitzer's gonna pay I swear!"  
    "Holy shit!"  
Jane pushed her way through the crowd of boys as they looked at that days headline, and she almost had do a double take as she read it over: Newsies fee to go up 10% .  
    "You've gotta be kiddin me." she breathed, looking around at the shocked faces of her boys. A few of them looked crestfallen and they had good reason to. They barely made enough to eat, and the food that they could afford sucked to put it nicely. With this set up, they'd have to sell ten more papers than usual just to make enough to pay for the next day's papers. Toad looked over at her.  
    "What do we do?" he asked. For the first time since she'd known him, Toad looked a little scared. She shrugged.  
    "Ain't nothin' we can do, we pay," she said, smacking her money down on the counter in front of her and picking up her papers. Sure, she wasn't happy about it, but there was nothing she could do. There was nothing she could say that could change what was going on. Pulitzer had upped the prices, so she had to comply. That was the only way that she and her boys were gonna survive. She watched as the others put their money down and got their papers, and made their way to their spots to sell. She watched them go before heading her own way, not knowing what the hell she was going to do. If Pulitzer pushed the prices any higher, she wouldn't be eating, and she barely ate as is. If she turned to stealing like she had a few years ago, she'd land herself back into the refuge, and she could grantee that Jack wouldn't be there to fish her out again.  
    "Hundreds killed in trolley accident!" she yelled waving a paper above her head. A man stopped by, tossed her a dime, and headed on his way. She smirked as her last paper was sold. As she was heading back to the lodging house, a boy stopped her. Jane recognized him as one of Manhattan's boys.  
    "You Slick?" he asked. She nodded. The kid looked relieved.  
    "Up in Manhattan we's is goin' on strike cause of the new prices. Jack started it, and he wants to know if you're gonna join." the kid said, breathless, looking back at her with wide eyes filled with a mix of fear and nervousness. Jane was shocked that people would follow Jack this blindly. Sure, he was good with words and all, but he was talking about not going to work and standing in front of the wagons and putting the lives of hundreds of kids at risk. She barely even thought it over.  
    "No. Bronx isn't going. We're sorry, tell him that. And tell Crutchie, his sister misses him and says she's sorry she ain't coming as much as she used to." she said. The kid nodded and turned his back and took off at a run. She was shocked that Jack would try something like that, but she was even more shocked that his boys would go along with it so willingly. When she got back to the lodging house that night, she put Toad in charge and made her way over to Manhattan. It was a long ass walk, but not one that she minded very much. But as she made her walk this time, she felt herself getting less and less excited about going. This time she knew that she'd have to face Jack and the fact that he knew that she wasn't going to join in the strike. There was no use turning back as she saw the Manhattan lodging house come into view. She felt a smile spread across her face when she saw the two figures on the stoop.  
    "I'm tellin' ya!"  
    "Yous never win at the races!"  
    "Well this time I did!"  
Race and Crutchie were standing outside the door to the lodging house. Race was smoking a cigar and Crutchie was glad to have the conversation.  
    "Care if I join in on your smoke break boys?" Jane asked pulling a cigarette from her back pocket.  
    "Slick!" Crutchie yelled with a smile.  
    "Long time no see!" she called back, heading closer and pulling him into a hug.  
    "We's miss ya over here" he said. She smiled.  
    "I know ya do. And I try to get over here as often as I can."  
    "Well that doesn't stop us from missin ya" Race said, pulling her into a hug.  
   "Yous lookin' for Jack?" he asked around his cigar. She shook her head.  
    "Just you two."  
Crutchie smiled and so did Race. They were the only two of the Manhattan newsies that knew who she really was that wasn't Jack Kelly. They were the two newsies she'd met the night Jack rescued her, and they were the two newsies who'd stuck with her ever since.  
    "What've I been missin' down in good old Hattan?" she asked taking a drag on her cigarette. Crutchie shrugged.  
    "Nothin' much. I's assume you heard about the strike."  
    "Yeah. Jackie boy sent down a runt to bear the news." she said. Race let out a small laugh.  
    "I take it your answer wasn't yes"  
She shook her head.  
    "Not in a million years. Jack is askin' me to give up my days pay and possibly my dinner for a few days over a few cense. It ain't happenin'."  
    "Every other burough's waitin' on Bronx and Brooklyn, and yous sayin' no ain't the best prospects." Race said. Jane shrugged her shoulders.  
    "If I know Jack, he'll give this whole thing up in a day or so once it gets boring. You know he can't sit still for very long." she said, smoke swirling around her head. Crutchie shook his head.  
    "I ain't so sure. There's this new guy, Davey. He's got Jack convinced a union is what we need in order ta get our prices reduced. He's real smart, even I can understand what he's sayin'." Crutchie said. Jane mulled the words over. She wasn't upset that Davey had given the Jack the idea, and the resolve to stick to it. But she still knew her answer was going to be no and that was final.  
    "Do I get ta meet this Davey?" she asked jokingly. Race and Crutchie both laughed.  
    "Why, you don't think he's good enough for our Jackie?" Race said around a laugh. Jane blew out a lungful of smoke.  
    "Dunno, he sounds like a real trouble maker." she said. The two boys laughed.  
    "He's been to school" Crutchie brought up after a few moments of silence.  
    "Then what's he doin', being a newsie?" she asked, crushing her cigarette under her heel.  
    "He said his dad was hurt in this accident and now he and his little brother have ta get all the money for the family." Crutchie finished.  
    "Boo hoo" Race threw in.  
    "It's kind of a shitty situation" Jane said, Crutchie nodded in agreement.  
    "Well, what's he gonna do once his dad gets betta? Just leave us? Cause that's something that no one ever does. I can tell he's already hooked on sellin'." Race said, stubbing out his cigar and tucking it behind his ear.  
    "Dunno. Sounds like the plan" Crutchie said. Jane gave a shrug. Davey wasn't really her problem at the moment, and she didn't care for him to be either. He seemed like a smart kid, and smart was something Jack could use at the moment. She said her good byes to the two boys on the stoop and starred her long walk back to the Bronx.


	3. Chapter Three

     "Slick, someone's here to see ya!"  
     "Who's that someone?"  
     "Uh...Jack Kelly. Again."  
     "Send him in."  
Jack pushed the door aside and headed inside.  
     "  Ya know if yous keep showin' up at my door in the late hours of the night like this, people are gonna start askin' questions."  
Jack gave a hollow laugh.  
     "Naw. They'll just think there's a turf war comin'."  
Slick folded her arms across her chest.  
     "What're you here for, Kelly?" she asked, lighting a cigarette. He shrugged.  
     "Can't an older brother type visit his baby sister?"  
     "He can. But yous neva come unless ya need somethin'." she said around her cigarette. Jack tugged off his hat and raked his hands through his hair.  
     "I want ya to meet someone." he breathed out after a few moments of silence. Slick blew out a lungful of smoke and raised an eyebrow.  
     "Yeah? And who might this someone be?"  
     "A girl."  
     "What? You want me to approve of the marriage? Honestly Jackie, you're practically a grown man, ya can make your own choices." she said, almost laughing. Jack shook his head.  
     "Naw, it ain't that. It's just, I dunno. She might convince ya about the strike."  
She ran a hand down her face.  
     "This again? I told the runt ya send ova, I ain't joinin' the strike. It'll be riskin' my boys' lives and that ain't something I wanna do." she said, taking another drag on the cigarette. Jack threw his hands up, looking obviously defeated.  
     "Whatever. Do what ya want but when ya can't afford the papes no more, don't come cryin' to me." he said, turning to leave, but he thought better of it and turned back to face her again.  
     "Her name's Katherine Plumber. She gave me this address. Go talk ta her. She may change ya mind." he said before he turned the knob and walked out the door. Slick looked at the scrap of paper in her hand and glanced down at the address messily scrawled across it.  
     "You've gotta be kiddin' me." she breathed out before heading out the door.  
     "Toad, you're in charge, I'm headin' out. Don't expect me back before ya turn in." she said before heading out into the night.  
     Katherine stared down at the blank paper in front of her and resisted the urge to rip her hair out. This was proving a lot harder than she'd expected it to be, not that she ever expected it to be easy. She took a deep breath and raised her hands to the keys of the type writer when a knock sounded at her apartment door.  
     "Are you kidding me?!" she groaned before getting up to answer it. She pulled the door aside to reveal a boy, who she could assume was a newsie, based alone on the ill fitting clothes, the heavy amount of dirt on his face and hands, and the fact that he was at her apartment, alone, in the middle of the night.  
    "Um, hello." was all she could say to the boy who stood across from her. The boy took a drag on the cigarette in his mouth.  
     "You Katherine?" the boy asked, smoke slipping across his lips. She didn't know what to say.  
     "Uh...yes. And you are?" she managed to spit out with a dumbfounded look across her face.  
     "Johnny Richardson, you can call me Slick." the boy said, crushing the cigarette under his heel and putting out a dirt covered hand. Katherine shook it.  
     "Jack sent me." he said, leaning against the doorframe of the apartment. Katherine sighed. She knew that she shouldn't have given her address to Jack, but for some unknown reason, she trusted him, but the boy at her door made her a little uneasy.  
     "I ain't here ta jump ya." he said after an awkward silence passed between the two.  
     "Then what're you here for?"  
    "I told ya. Jack sent me." he said, pulling another cigarette from his pocket along with a match and lighting it. If Jack sent the kid, then there must have been a reason. Still, Katherine still stood in the doorway, the cold air blowing in, too dumbfounded to say anything.  
    "So are we just gonna stand around or...?" the boy asked, waving the cigarette around for emphasis, smoke swirling around his hand.  
    "No. Come in." Katherine said, the words making their way out of her mouth before her brain had time to process them. That night, Katherine Plumber may or may not have bribed the boy that night with his name in an article that may or may not even make the newspapers in the morning, but the bribe had worked. Johnny Richardson joined the strike, and with him, came the entirety of the Bronx.  
Racetrack Higgins was fond of sleeping, particularly sleeping in because he got to do it so rarely. So on Sunday morning, when he didn't sell, he was asleep, boarder line coma-tose when there was a pounding at the door of the Lodging House.  
     "Son of a bitch" he mumbled, rolling out of bed, stumbling over objects other newsies had left out in the rush to get ready that morning (they weren't getting ready to sell that morning, but that wasn't important). The pounding came at the door again.  
     "Yeah, yeah, I'm coming, I'm coming." he grumbled, pulling the door open, half dressed, and half awake. When he yanked the door aside, he found a kid standing on the door step. The kid was barely five feet tall and had a nasty shiner on his face along with a liberal amount of dirt and grime that was caked on his cheeks and under his fingernails.  
     "You Jack Kelly?" the kid asked, his voice gruff. Race raised an eyebrow.  
     "Naw. What do ya need?" he asked, The kid shifted on his feet before speaking again.  
     "Slick sent me over. Says that Bronx is joinin' the strike as of today. He also says that Crutchie's sister misses him and she'll be down tonight to visit. He also told me to give this to some kid named Racetrack." the kid said, placing a scrap of paper in his hand before taking off down the streets. Race smiled to himself before closing the door and heading inside. He got halfway up the stairs before he unfolded the piece of paper.  
 _Almost got my damn self killed gettin' stealin' these, but hey, it was worth it. See ya tonight._  
 _-Janie._  
Race smiled as two cigars fell into his hands.  
Jane made her way to the Manhattan Lodging House a few hours after she sent the runt over there earlier that day. Her trips to Manhattan usually made her happy, this one just provided unneeded stress. She made her way to the stoop, said hello to Race, gave Jack a smile, and made her way up the roof top where she knew she'd find him.  
    "Race read ya the note?" she asked, standing a few feet away from him. She saw him turn and a grin lit up his face.  
    "Janie!" he said, waving her over to the edge to sit beside him.  
    "Told ya I'd be by tonight." she said, Crutchie gave her a one armed hug Jane leaned into him and smiled.  
    "Missed ya." he said, turning his gaze back to the city beneath him.  
    "Missed ya too." she said, "I got ya somethin'." she said, digging around in her pockets before pulling out two brightly wrapped objects.  
    "You didn't..." Crutchie said, a smile spreading across his face.  
    "Oh, but I did." she said, handing him the two small objects.  
    "Do I even wanna know what yous did to get ya hands on chocolate?" he asked, popping one into his mouth.  
    "Naw, Ya don't." she said, kissing him on the cheek. Crutchie smiled looking down at the colored paper in his hand.  
    "What're you two doin' up on the roof at this tima night."  
Jane turned and faced Jack.  
    "Star gazin'." she said, simply. Jack headed over to the two and took a seat on Jane's other side.  
   "And you didn't invite me?" Jack asked, feigning hurt in his voice. Jane rolled her eyes, pulled a small sheet of paper from her pocket.  
   "Some old rich dude dropped it today." she said. Jack looked down at it, and Jane smiled when she saw his eyes light up.  
    "You didn't hafta..."  
    "Oh, but I did."  
Jack unfolded the paper and looked at it, holding it up in the soft glow of the street lights beneath them, lighting up the image of a cowboy, riding horseback through the west.  
    Her walk home was longer than usual, maybe because she was walking slower, maybe because she had too many thoughts running through her mind. But it didn't matter, she wasn't paying attention, and that got her in trouble.  
    "Well, well, well. If it ain't Slick Richardson. What eva did I do to deserve such a pleasure?"  
Jane jumped at the sudden voice, but quickly regained her composure.  
    "Is it true that I've been graced with the presence of Spot Conlon himself? What have I done this time?" she asked, failing to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Spot's fists clench.  
    "I'll tell ya exactly what ya did. Yous joined Jackie Boy's goddamned strike, and ya know that's gonna get ya dead."  
    "What do ya care?" she asked, stopping in her tracks.  
    "Cause I don't want no dead newsies. Especially near my turf. Don't make so good for sellin'." he sneared. Jane turned to him, eyes angry.  
    "What makes ya so sure I'm gonna die?"  
Spot rolled his eyes, but all he did was take another step towards her.  
    Davey was unsure of what he'd gotten himself into. Selling newspaper seemed like a good idea until he was actually doing it. He'd found the same thing to happening with the strike. It seemed like a great idea until he was actually doing it. Hell, it sounded like the best idea there ever was until he was actually doing it. But now that he was doing it, the idea was actually pretty terrible. He'd gotten home that night, dropped his brother off, and promptly headed back out again. He was walking down the street, kicking at a loose stone from the streets when she about bowled him over.  
    "Oh my God!" she shouted, stumbling back a few steps, and putting her hands on his shoulders.  
    "Are you OK?" he asked. She nodded then, realizing what she was doing, took her hands from his shoulders and steadied herself again.  
    "I-I'm fine." she stamered. Davey offered a small smile.  
    "Uh, glad to hear it." he said, she smiled giving a small laugh before offering her hand.  
   "Emma Grace Clayton."  
Davey shook her hand.  
    "David Jacobs."  
Emma Grace tucked a strand of bright red hair behind her ear.  
    "Nice to meet you, David Jacobs."  
    "Likewise, Emma Grace."


	4. Chapter Four

Seize The Day  
    Spot Conlon never realized just how short Slick Richardson was until he was standing so close that he could smell the nicotine on his breath.  
    "The hell's your problem Conlon?" Slick growled, jaw jutted forward, eyes stormy.  
    "Ya wanna know what the hell my problem is? What's your problem, huh, joinin' a god damned strike? Ya know what that means for me now?"  
    "Why should I care?"  
    "Because we come from the two most powerful boroughs and if yous is goin' 'round joinin' strikes, then what do ya think everyone else to expect from me, huh?"   
    "Why should I give a damn, Conlon? Ain't no one expecting nothin' from ya." he said, making a move to pull away, but Spot wasn't having any of it. In one move he had his hands around Slick's neck, lifting the younger boy a few inches off the ground. He watched as Slick's eyes blew open in fear and his hands clamped down around Spot's wrists.  
    "What the hell?!" Slick choked out, his feet kicking at the air.  
    "I'm only gonna say this once, so's ya betta listen. Bronx ain't goin' on no strike, and neither is Brooklyn." Spot growled through clenched teeth.  
    "So that's it huh? Ya gonna let 'Hattan swing like that?" Slick said, still struggling to breath. Spot grimaced. He knew that he would be losing his connection with Manhattan because of his choice, but he didn't care at that moment.  
    "I'm doin' whatever it takes, so yeah, I guess I'm gonna let 'Hattan swing." Spot bit out. He shoved Slick to the ground and he landed on his back with a "thud". Once Slick sat up again, Spot almost keeled over in shock. Slick had smacked his head on the way down and his hat had fallen off revealing the mess of long dark hair that was kept up in it. Slick was a girl and she was laying unconscious at his feet.  
    Davey was in a better mood than he had been in weeks and his little brother was sure that there was something wrong. Less stared up at his big brother on their way to the lodging house the next morning.  
    "What're we gonna do if we're not gonna sell papes today?" he asked. Davey shrugged.  
    "Dunno. Whatever Jack decides I guess."  
    "Well, if we're not gonna sell papes today, then what are we gonna do?"  
    "Dunno."  
    "Why don't you know?"  
    "I just dunno, OK?"  
    Less turned away from Davey, shocked that his brother would take that tone with him, but he said nothing more. When they got to the Lodging House, Less's jaw fell open in shock. Jack was coming out of the Lodging House just in time to recive Slick Richardson's handshake. Less knew what that meant: The Bronx had just joined the strike.  
     Spot came out of his room earlier than usual that morning, but his boys didn't question him. They knew better than to question him.  
    "The hell're you starin' at?" he asked. His boys shrugged and all went about their business.  
    "Runt came over from 'Hattan last night." one kid said. Spot raised an eyebrow.  
    "What he want?" Spot asked, raking a hand through his hair, glancing in the mirror at the dark circles under his eyes.  
    "Same thing 'Hattan's been asking after for the past few weeks, if Brooklyn's in on the strike or not."  
    "What'd you tell 'im."  
    "Same thing we've been tell 'em: no."  
Spot nodded in approval before heading down the stairs.  
    Jane had about a thousand thoughts racing through her head and all of them were focused on Spot Conlon, and that was a fact that she hated. Now that he knew who she was, there was literally no stopping him from telling every single person he knew that Slick Richardson was Janie not Johnny. She felt like she could throw up, her head was spinning, and she felt her stomach slowly twisting its way into a knot of worry. So when she made her way into Manhattan that morning, she'd made sure to down a swig of crappy whiskey to steady her hands and to make it seem like she was hung over in case her story of waking up in that alley was made its way around to Jack. He shook her hand on the steps of the Lodging House that morning and gave her a questioning look, she only shook her head in response and muttered a quick "tell you later" before plastering on a fake smirk and turning her attention to the crowd of newsies, praying that Spot hadn't told anyone, because it could mean her death if he did.  
    Something was wrong with Janie, he knew it. But he didn't say anything for the fear of her yelling and closing herself off to him, because he knew that's exactly what she would do if he pushed too hard, and he always managed to tick her off some way or another when he noticed something was wrong with Janie. Before he could say anything, the attention of the newsies was drawn away from them. The other boys were shouting and Jack turned in the direction they were facing and once Jack saw what they were seeing, he was just as shocked as his boys were. Standing at the counter were two boys, who had just placed their money out for their papers. Before he could say anything, Davey had beat him to it. He headed over to the two boys and put a hand on one of their shoulders. Jack swore he had never heard anything more inspirational in his damn life. It made him puff out his chest in pride and get a little sick to his stomach over the cheesiness at the same time. But watching the look on Jane's face was something that he'd never forget. She had one eyebrow raised while her lips formed a small smile. She watched as the two kids took into consideration the fact that Davey had just gotten the kids to drop their papers and join the strike. Jane laughed and leaned over to him.  
    "I think I may like this Davey kid after all." she said. Jack laughed and lead her over to make the formal introductions.  
    "Davey Jacobs this is Slick Richardson, Slick Richardson this is Davey Jacobs." he said. He could see the unease in Davey but watched as Jane shook his hand.  
    "Pleased to meet ya, Davey."  
After that, the protest was underway, and Jack would soon regret starting the strike at all.  
    She didn't even know how things went so wrong, but they did. One second, the boys had signs raised in strike, they were blocking the wagons from coming in, and hundreds of papers scattered the streets from where they'd thrown them. Things were going well, but that all changed when the police came to break things up. She'd seen one of the policemen punch Romeo, but she lost track of the others. All except for Crutchie; he was right behind her the entire time and she was going to make sure that he got out OK. She was one on one with one of the cops when it happened. Jane knew that Synder was coming but she brushed it off, if anything bad happened she knew that Crutchie could get out of it OK, but that all changed when the Delancy's came up. She threw her final punch, knocking the cop the ground when she heard him yelling. One of the Delancy brothers had his crutch and were beating him with it, she tried to get over to him but there were too many people. She watched, helplessly as he was dragged away. Jane yelled his name so loud, but he just gave her a sad look as they took him. That's when she felt the tears burn the back of her eyes, and that's when she knew that she'd made a terrible mistake.  
    He had tried so hard to put Slick Richardson out of his mind, but there was a nagging feeling at the pit of his gut that just wouldn't let him. So that's why he walked all the way to the Bronx that night, that's why he just had to see her. When he finally got the Lodging House that night, Toad answered the door.  
    "Slick around?" he asked. The kid nodded and stepped aside. Spot was a little surprised that he wasn't met with any sarcastic remark, but he pushed the thoughts away. He headed up the stairs before pausing.  
    "Where is he?" he called over his shoulder.  
    "Roof" was all Toad spit out before disappearing down the hallway. Spot continued up the stairs before getting to Slick's room and heading out the window and onto the roof. When he did, what he saw made his heart stop in his chest. Slick was on the edge of the roof, leaning forward. Before Spot really knew what he was doing, he was running yanking her backwards before she fell. She let out a shocked gasp before letting herself fall and land on top of him with a slight thud. They laid like that for a few seconds before she shoved herself off of him.  
    "What the hell was that, Conlon?!" she yelled, standing up, her eyes wild with a cocktail of emotions.  
    "Saving your life! You're welcome, by the way!" he yelled back, getting to his feet, catching his breath after the fall.  
    "Well, did it eva look like I may not want to be saved?!" she yelled, tears streaming down her cheeks.  
    "It did, but I just..."  
    "You just what, huh?! You just what?!" she yelled, her voice breaking.  
    "I just couldn't stand to let you die!" he yelled, out of breath, hand gripping at his hair. Slick looked like she had just been slapped across the face.  
    "You just what?" she breathed, taking a few steps closer to him, her whole demeanor changing.  
    "I just couldn't let you die." he said, this time more confident in his words. The tension between the two of them was practically visible. Spot could hear his heart pounding in his chest; he was angry, he felt like he was going to cry, but he didn't have the time (nor the resolve) to sort through all the emotions, so he did the logical thing: he kissed her. She tensed up, but then relaxed, tugging him towards her, and walking him back towards the window they'd both come through. He broke away from her for a second to open the window; she climbed through first.  
    "My name's Jane by the way." she breathed before grabbing the colar of his shirt and tugging him onto the bed.  
    Of all the people she had imagined herself laying naked next to, Spot Conlon wasn't one, but he was, and it wasn't such a bad thing. She had her head on his chest and his arm was wrapped around her shoulders, keeping her close to him. She could hear his heart beating softly in his chest.  
    "Jane?"  
    "Hm?"  
    "About tonight...?"  
    "What about tonight?"  
    "Why were you gonna do it, you know, jump?"  
She shrugged her shoulders.  
    "During the strike, the cops came. Snyder took Crutchie." she said, her voice breaking.  
    "You know, Jack's gonna get him out."  
    "But it wasn't Jack's fault, it was mine." she said, tears sliding down her cheeks. Spot pressed a kiss to the top of her head.  
    "You couldn't've known." he said, his voice barely above a whisper.  
    "But I could've stopped it." she said, burying her head in Spot's chest. He rubbed her back to try and calm her down.  
    "This is all gonna get better, I promise you." he said, his voice soft, "You're gonna be OK."  
That night everything changed between Spot and Jane. That was the night that Jane Richardson fell head over heels in love with the Prince of Brooklyn himself.


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this got out so late :(  
> Let me know how I did down in the comments.

Santa Fe  
     He didn't know what to do. He should have never gotten Jack into the strike in the first place. Davey thought that maybe it was his fault that Crutchie had been put in the refuge; he thought that maybe if he had convinced Jack that there was some other way, things may have ended differently. So maybe that was why he was sitting on his roof, staring out into the blackness of the night, trying desperately to find the stars that he knew were underneath the smoke from the city. He didn't even hear him approach.  
     "I thought the same thing."  
He jumped at the voice, but turned and saw Slick Richardson standing before him.  
     "You thought what?" he asked. Slick shrugged.  
     "You know what I'm talking about. The guilt. I thought that it was my fault too, but then I thought it over." he said, taking a seat next to him, his legs dangling over the side of Davey's apartment building.  
     "I was the one that convinced Jack to join the strike in the first place. I mean, if I had just told him to pay-"  
     "Then what? Yous ain't stupid. Ya know that Pulitzer would just raise the price more until we were payin' through the nose to sell. Ya did the right thing." he said. Davey was shocked the Slick had told him that, but he didn't question it. He knew that Slick must have lost just as much as he did that afternoon, if not more.  
     "Do you know where Jack is?" he asked. Slick shrugged.  
     "Jack goes where he goes, He needs some time ta clear that head of his."  
     "I want to talk to him."  
     "I know, but not right now. Give him some time."  
     "What if he's gone?"  
     "He won't be. But I'll tell ya what, I meet yous here in the morning and we'll head on down to Medda's. He'll be there."  
Davey managed a nod and then Slick was gone, slipping down his fire escape the same way he'd gotten up.  
     Jane hated that she had to lie to Davey that night, but it was for his own good. If she had told him where Jack was, Davey would have pushed buttons he didn't know about and then Jack would have snapped, and Jane couldn't have that. So that's why she was heading down the Manhattan Lodging house, knowing that would be where Jack was. He always went down there when things get bad, well more specifically he went up. He would be on the roof of the lodging house, looking over the city dreaming of something better. The boys knew he was up there, but knew better than to come up there with him for fear of getting yelled at, but that night, no one wanted to talk. As Jane headed up the steps of the lodging house, she passed by Crutchie's bunk and grimaced, feeling a pang of guilt shoot through her. She could feel the tears prick the backs of her eyes, but she forced them down. She didn't want Jack to see her cry. When she pushed herself out the window and out onto the roof, she almost wished she hadn't.  
     "Jack." she called out softly. The figure sitting with his legs dangling over the edge, turned.  
     "I shoulda known you'd come." he said, just as soft.  
     "Course I'd come. I had ta see ya. 'Specially after what happened today." she said, crossing the roof and coming over to sit beside him.  
    "It's not your fault" he breathed out after a few moments of silence. She sighed.  
    "It's not yours either." she spoke. Jack turned to her with tears in his eyes.  
    "Stop kiddin' yourself Janie." he said, brushing the tears off of his cheeks. In all of her years of knowing him, she'd never seen him cry. In a weird way it was reassuring, like seeing him cry showed that he was human.  
    "No. Yous need to stop wallowing in your own self pity." she said, folding her arms across her chest. Jack looked taken aback by her words. Maybe he was expecting her to feel bad for him, like she was going to wrap him up in a blanket and tell him that it was all going to be ok. But Jane didn't do that sort of thing, she didn't coddle, and she didn't let others throw themselves a pity party when there was something they could do to fix whatever was wrong.  
    "We get him out. Plain and simple. You broke outta the lodging house before, then you sure as hell can break him out." she said. That's when Jack turned on her.  
    "You don't think I tried that?! When I got there, his leg was messed up so bad he couldn't even come to the window!" he yelled, tears streaming down his cheeks. He raked his hand through his hair. Jane grimaced, but all she did was get angry; angry that Jack would yell at her like that, angry that he was just going to let this go, and most of all she was angry that he was ready to run away from his problems and leave them all behind.  
    "Jane, I'll tell ya what. I've got money saved up, maybe enough to buy a ticket to Santa Fe. If I get enough for both of us, we can get outta here tonight. I promise. We can leave this all behind like we talked about." he said, his eyes holding a tiny glimmer of hope.  
    "No." she said. Jack looked shocked.  
    "No? What do you mean 'no'? This is all we've ever talked about. We can leave New York, never having to look back."  
    "What about Crutchie? What about Race? You just gonna leave 'em here? All those other boys look up to you, and you're just gonna leave 'em in this shithole of a city? Some leader you are." she said eyes focused on the ground below.  
    "You think I wanted to be leader? You think I wanted this responsability?" his voice was raising.  
   "No! I neva thought ya wanted to lead, but I thought that you cared about those boys! I thought that you cared enough to take care of 'em! I thought yous was a decent human   being!" she yelled, standing up. Jack looked shocked.  
    "You wanna go to Santa Fe so bad, then leave!" she yelled, turning her back on him and heading back into the lodging house, trying to force down the tears that were brimming in her eyes.  
    Spot woke up in the Bronx, and at first he couldn't remember what happened, but then he the clothes scattered on the floor and he remembered. He sat up and ran a hand through his hair, searching for the girl that should have been in the bed next to him, but she wasn't there. Spot couldn't say that he was surprised. Slick didn't strike him as the kind of girl that wanted to stick around in one place too long, so he got dressed and headed out the window of the lodging house, making his way back to Brooklyn with a million questions racing through his mind, all of them focused on Slick.


End file.
